by Amy Cross
“Kim, it's me!” Robert gasps, hurrying to the steps and staring down at her. “I did everything you told me to do! I came back for you!”
The bride stands up straight, and I see that she now has a dark smudge on her right glove. At first, I assume that she simply touched the soil, but then I realize that she's standing exactly where Robert poured the blood.
What is this?
Has he managed to get someone to play dress-up for him? That's the only possible explanation, but – as Robert starts making his way toward the bride – he seems to be trembling with fear. Or is it anticipation? Does he really believe that the ghost of his dead ex-girlfriend has turned up here in the forest? He must have planned this whole farce in advance, and now he's plunging headfirst into a fantasy. These people are completely insane.
As he reaches the bride and stops next to her, Robert seems to be almost in a trance. He stares at her, and then he slowly takes a step back.
“Of course, my love,” he says, as if he thinks he can hear her voice in his head. “She's waiting for you, just as you told me. You didn't ever doubt me, did you? Everything I've done for the past few years, ever since I lost you, has been about getting you back.”
There's a pause, and then the bride takes a step forward and starts coming up the steps. I hear the wooden boards creak beneath her weight, and finally she reaches the top.
“Make it quick,” Robert says, watching her from behind. “That's all I ask of you. Rachel is... She's a good person. It's not her fault that she's caught up in all of this, but please make it so that she doesn't suffer. Give her a quick death. I know you won't drag this out.”
Ignoring him, the bride comes closer to me, and I feel the air turn so much colder as I look up at her veil. Now that she's right with me, I can just about make out the faintest hint of features behind the fabric, and for a moment she seems content to simply stare at me. Finally, however, she kneels in front of me, and then she reaches up with one gloved hand and slowly pulls the veil aside.
I instantly pull back as I see her face.
Or, rather, what's left of her face.
She looks old, much older than I'd have expected, maybe in her sixties or even seventies. Her eyes are dark, shriveled pits, while the lower part of her face has been twisted and contorted. Her jaw is at an angle, having seemingly been broken away from one side, and her nose is gone. It takes a moment, but finally I realize that a hole seems to have been blasted through a section of her face, leaving several teeth visible as they cling to what remains of her upper jaw, and scraps of skin hang from beneath the shattered mouth. This isn't the woman I saw on the jetty, the woman I pursued through the hotel, the woman who stared at me through the window; this is someone else, it's the woman who lunged at me in the library.
And she looks so real.
I tell myself that this can't be happening, but I don't see how make-up alone could create something like this.
Suddenly her jaw twitches slightly and she twists her head, and a rasping growl emerges from what's left of her mouth.
“I've done everything you wanted, Kim,” Robert says as he comes up the steps and enters the pagoda. “Now we can be together. All you needed was a body. That's what you told me. So here she is, take her, and then we can be together forever. That's all that matters.”
The bride continues to stare at me, and then slowly she reaches out and touches the side of my face. I try to pull away, but I can't get far enough, and for a moment I feel the fabric of her glove brushing against my cheek. I tell myself that this is all part of some sick joke, but the air is absolutely freezing and finally I can't help but start kicking furiously. I try to push the woman away, but I can't maneuver myself around to hit her, so for a moment I can only flail helplessly.
“What are you waiting for?” Robert asks. “Why have you stopped speaking to me? It's time, Kim. Please, I'm begging you, get this done now. We still have to be ready for dawn. There's a whole family at the hotel, and they need to see a wedding. They won't realize that it's you in Rachel's body, I promise. I've already planned ahead for that part.” He pauses. “Kim... Why are you laughing? I can hear you laughing in my head.”
Twisting round a little, I get ready to aim a kick straight at this bitch's face.
“Kim,” Robert continues, sounding worried now, “why -”
Before he can finish, I lash out. My foot slams straight into her cheek, sending her thudding back. As she falls, she lets out an angry snarl and immediately pulls herself back up. She lunges at me, slamming me hard against the pagoda's wooden side, and as she leans closer I feel my heart start pounding with fear.
I can see through part of this woman's head.
“Who are you?” Robert gasps, staring at her in horror. “You're not Kim! Where's Kim?”
The bride turns to him and snarls again.
“Where's Kim?” Robert shouts, as if he's suddenly seized by absolute terror. “I heard your voice in my head, you said you were Kim! You said -”
Suddenly he's sent slamming back against the wall, as if the bride somehow pushed him away.
She turns to me, and for the first time I start to wonder whether she might not be an actress at all. I mean, I still don't believe in ghosts, but I can see through a part of this woman's head!
“Where's Kim?” Robert sobs as he gets to his feet. “Please, you have to tell me! This was all about Kim! I need you to bring Kim back to me! That's what all of this is for!”
The bride turns to him, and then she looks over toward the patch of ground in front of the pagoda. She reaches out with her right hand, and after a moment I see that the ground is starting to twist and churn, as if it's somehow being disturbed. The bride's pale glove begins to blacken and fall away, revealing her rotten, skeletal hand, and now the ground is starting to send chunks of soil flying several feet in every direction. It's as if the forest floor itself is trying to force something out.
Or as if something's being pulled out.
“No,” Robert whispers, “it can't be...”
I watch in horror as a dead body is finally ripped up from the soil. It's as if invisible wires are hoisting the corpse into the air, and soon she's suspended several feet in the air, in front of the pagoda. Rotten and partially decomposed, the body hangs seemingly unsupported, before slowly the head tilts back to reveal the skeletal remains of another figure. Chunks of soil fall from the exposed cavities, and then slowly the figure's face begins to twitch.
“Robert,” the floating body whimpers, “please, you should never have -”
Before she can get another word out, she's torn apart in mid-air. Some invisible force rips through her body in an instant, scattering the parts in all directions.
“No!” Robert shouts, scrambling down the steps and rushing out toward the spot where the body was hanging.
Slowly, the bride turns back to me. Her face remains twisted and ruined, with only part of her jaw still intact, but I swear – for one moment – she seems somehow to be smiling.
She reaches out and touches the side of my face once more, and this time I'm powerless to fight back. I can only stare at her as my whole body starts shaking, and I realize now that there's no way this can all be an act. Somehow, impossibly, I'm staring directly into the face of a dead woman. And as I do so, I hear a hissing, rasping sound coming from the back of her throat, almost as if...
As if she's laughing.
“He's such a fool,” a female voice says suddenly, flooding into my mind. “So easy to manipulate. He did his job well enough, but now I think there needs to be a change. I've waited so long for a new body.”
She runs her hand down my cheek with a kind of hideous tenderness.
“But no,” she whispers slowly, “not you. He hasn't understood, has he?”
Suddenly I feel something bumping against the wooden wall behind me, and then I feel the ropes starting to loosen around my wrists. I turn and look, and I realize that Robert must have come up to the outside of the pagoda
.
He's setting me free!
“Run, Rachel!” he yells. “This is all my fault! I don't know what's happening, but we have to get out of here!”
As soon as I'm able, I pull away from the ropes and throw myself forward. I manage to slip past the bride, even as she lets out a gasp of anger, and then I scramble to my feet and rush down the wooden steps. As I get to the bottom, I almost slam straight into Robert.
“We're leaving!” he says, grabbing my hand. “I don't know what's wrong, but that thing up there isn't Kim!”
I turn and look back at the bride, just as she comes to the top of the steps and stares down at us both.
“That's something else,” Robert continues. “Someone else. And whoever she is, she took Kim and...”
His voice trails off, and for a moment we both stare at the horrific sight.
Suddenly the bride steps forward, causing the temperature of the air around us to plummet.
“Run!” Robert shouts, and we both turn and race out across the forest.
Before we've made it even a handful of paces, Robert suddenly lets out a gasp and his hand is pulled away from mine. I turn, just in time to see his body being thrown through the air, and he lands hard at the feet of the bride.
I take a step forward, to go back for him, but then I stop again as the bride leans down and touches the side of his face. I watch in horror as she leans closer, and then the flesh around her jaw stars to melt away, dripping down onto Robert's cheek and revealing a wide, howling mouth.
A moment later Robert's eyes open, staring up at her, and he lets out a shocked gasp as his whole body convulses.
Suddenly the bride turns and rasps at me, scaring me so much that I turn to run. I have to get help. In that moment, however, my right foot catches against something on the ground and I trip. I try to stay up, but I quickly fall against a tree and I feel a sharp pain in my chest. Looking down, I see that a broken branch has driven through the front of my dress, and that blood is already starting to soak through the material.
I try to scream, but my mouth is still gagged. Reaching up, I start furiously pulling the material out of the way. After a few seconds, however, I feel a cold hand on my shoulder, and I turn to see the bride standing right behind me.
She leans closer, and her twisted jaw falls away as she screams straight into my face.
Chapter Eighteen
Morning light streams through the forest, and a gentle breeze causes the tops of the trees to sway slightly. I blink a few times, staring up at the brightening sky, and it takes a moment before I realize that something's terribly wrong.
Gasping, I sit up and find that I'm out in the forest.
I look down and see the torn section on the front of my dress, with dried blood caked around the tear. Reaching down, I start to peel the fabric away, and soon I can see a long but fairly shallow cut in my skin. There's fresh blood oozing from the wound. The pain's not too bad, although – as I stumble to my feet and then steady myself against a nearby tree – I feel as if my head is throbbing.
And then I remember the scream.
I remember everything.
The bride was right behind me. She screamed into my face, and then...
Well, everything after that is still hazy.
“Robert?” I whisper, suddenly looking around but seeing no sign of him.
The pagoda stands a short distance away. In the morning light, the whole scene seems completely calm and nonthreatening. In fact, there's something peaceful about this place. I take a couple of steps forward, still searching for some sign that Robert is nearby, but then I stop as I realize that I need to get help. I don't know what's happening here, but I have to find someone who can figure it all out.
So I run.
At first, I don't even know which way I'm going. I race between the trees, stumbling constantly but somehow managing to keep going. Finally, by some miracle, I spot the hotel's lawn far ahead and I realize that I've actually found my way back. I reach the edge of the forest, and then I stop as I see the hotel itself, and I'm suddenly struck by the most intense sense of fear and dread.
Staring at the windows, as I hear sirens in the distance, I feel absolutely certain that something terrible will happen if I go into the hotel itself. It's as if pure death is waiting in those rooms and corridors. The urge to run is getting stronger and stronger, until finally I turn and stumble across the lawn. Clutching my injured belly, I somehow make my way to the start of the jetty.
I turn and look back at the hotel. What's wrong with that place? Why does it feel as if it's emanating some kind of pure, intense evil? My mind is telling me that I should ignore the sensation, but my body refuses to even stand here, so I quickly turn and run again. I'm weak, though, so I almost fall, but I force myself to keep going. If there's a boat at the jetty's far end, I might be able to get away. As I stumble along the wooden jetty, I finally feel my legs give way and I don't even have time to grab the railing. Falling, I land hard on my knees, and I let out a gasp of pain as I bend forward and lean against my elbows. My wedding gown rustles in the wind.
Blood is dribbling from the wound in my chest.
In the distance, sirens are getting closer.
I have to get up.
I have to get up.
I have to get to the end.
For a moment, I feel as if I'll never get up; as if my only option is to give up and stay down, to wait for the final moment. I've tried fighting, and I so nearly managed to escape, but the human body can only take so much punishment. For a few seconds, I can't imagine ever again having the strength to stand again.
But then, somehow, I do get up.
Supporting myself by clinging to the wooden railing, I rise on trembling, shaking legs. As I do so, my wedding gown rustles again. Once I'm standing, I lean against the railing and look down at my chest. There's a large patch of blood caked all around the rip in the white fabric. I can see scraps of flesh mashed into the beautiful lacework, and I instinctively reach down with shaking hands so that I can start cleaning the mess. At the last second, however, I see a fresh line of blood running from the wound and soaking down the dress's front. I hadn't realized, but I'm still bleeding.
It'll be a big job to clean this and make it look good again.
Behind me, the sirens are getting closer and closer, and a moment later I hear the sound of vehicles screeching to a halt.
I look straight ahead, toward the end of the jetty. The water is so beautifully calm and clear, especially so early in the morning. I watch as a gentle breeze blows ripples across the surface, and slowly I find myself remembering how utterly lovely it was to swim out there in the lake. I swear, I can feel the warm water against my body, and I remember how free I felt when I was swimming and laughing with Robert. I honestly think that was – or seemed, at the time, to be – the happiest moment of my entire life, and now the memory seems to be consuming me entirely.
I want to go back into the water.
I take a stumbling step forward, toward the end of the jetty, while still having to cling to the railing. I've come so far. Failing now, at the very last moment, is impossible.
If I go swimming again, maybe everything will be okay. Maybe there's an escape waiting for me, down there in the water where everything seemed fine before...
Before.
Before... this happened.
“Ms. Blaine?” a voice calls out suddenly, from behind.
I freeze, still staring at the water. My whole body is starting to shake now, and I feel as if my knees are trembling violently. I can also feel a trickle of blood making its way down the inside of my dress, running over my belly and soaking the fabric. That must be a lot of blood.
“Rachel?” the voice continues, and now I realize that it's vaguely familiar. “Rachel Blaine? Or is is Rachel Bennington now? Um, either way... M'am, are you okay?”
I hesitate for a moment, before turning and looking back the way I came. I immediately see Officer Dante standing at the s
tart of the jetty, staring at me with a shocked expression. After a few seconds, however, I look past him and I see the flashing blue lights of several police cars parked up at the front of the hotel, while half a dozen officers make their way through the beautiful double doors that lead into the reception room. There's radio chatter in the distance, and I can hear the officers shouting at one another.
“Ms. Blaine?”
I turn to Officer Dante again, and I see that he's slowly coming this way. He looks so worried, but also a little scared. He looks out of his depth.
“Ms. Blaine,” he continues, with fear in his voice as an ambulance arrives up next to the hotel. “M'am, it's okay, we're here now. Everything's going to be fine but...”
He stares at my bloodied chest for a moment, and then he looks at me again.
“Ms. Blaine,” he stammers, “today was supposed to be your wedding day, wasn't it? What happened?”
“I...”
For a moment, I have no idea what to say. My mind is racing as I try to work out exactly how I ended up here. After a few seconds, I look down at the tattered front of my wedding dress and I realize that the whole thing is ruined. There's blood all around the torn section, and mud is smeared across the fabric. I tried so hard to keep Grandma's dress in perfect condition, and now it's ruined.
“Rachel!”
Startled, I look toward the hotel and see several people hurrying out across the lawn. A moment later, I recognize one of them and realize that Robert is coming this way.
“No,” I murmur, turning and hurrying further along the jetty.
“M'am?” Officer Dante calls out.
I can hear him coming after me, his steps thudding hard on the wooden boards.
“I have to get away,” I stammer, filled with panic as I get to the end of the jetty and look down into the water. “I can't be here. She's coming for me.”
“She?”
Turning, I see Officer Dante staring at me with a confused expression.
Behind him, Robert and Mum and a few others have reached the jetty, but only Robert and Mum are now coming all the way over to me.